


Maybe We Do

by geekmonkeyramblings



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, F/F, NSFW, mostly sex with emotions 'cause that's how i roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 10:05:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5824432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekmonkeyramblings/pseuds/geekmonkeyramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate timeline for episode 2.14 "Bodyguard of Lies." Over a week passes after the kiss, and still Bellamy has not given the signal. Feeling powerless to do anything other than wait, Clarke grows increasingly restless (and irritating). In the interest of getting a decent night's sleep, Lexa attempts to set her mind at peace. The result is... not what she expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe We Do

Lexa sighed heavily and shifted in her furs. _Just ignore her_ , she reminded herself, clenching her eyes tighter in a futile attempt to block out the growing irritation that was Clarke Griffin. The hour was late – nearing morning, if her instincts were true – and still the headstrong sky girl continued to fret about the coming battle. Immobility in the face of a problem, it seemed, did not sit well with her at all. So it had been a week of this that Lexa had endured. A week of Clarke’s relentless need to examine every angle of the plan, as if doing so would guarantee victory. A week of _much too little_ sleep. Her patience was beginning to wear dangerously thin.

“Clarke,” she began, unable to keep the irritability from her tone, “if you do not intend to sleep _again_ tonight, will you at least stop pacing?”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Lexa,” Clarke snapped, stilling if only to turn and fix her with a sharp glare. In another time and place, it might have been intimidating. Here, in the gentle flicker of firelight inside the tent, such righteous indignation held little of the bite that she surely intended. She was far too beautiful, with the flames dancing in her clear blue eyes. “Am I keeping you awake by _walking_?”

Unfazed, Lexa met her gaze evenly. “Yes.”

A small part of her, the part that had not had sufficient rest for long enough to make her more than a little _cranky_ , to say the least, took the briefest of pleasure in the way that Clarke visibly bristled at her words. Still, a fight was not what she wanted. It had taken them too much time to find this semblance of a friendship – or perhaps, if she dared to indulge the notion, something _more_ – to risk it all on the satisfaction of petty urges.

Clarke, however, was not quite done yet. “At least _I_ have my priorities straight.”

Lexa let out a second, more beleaguered sigh. _Of course_ _she’s not going to make this easy._ Sitting up, she shifted to regard her fully.

“We’ve been over this, Clarke. Many times. The battle will start when it starts; until then, there’s no sense in making yourself sick with worry. The details remain the same, no matter how many times you look at them. Just let your mind be at peace, for now.”

“I have literally _no idea_ how to do that,” Clarke replied, looking away. She hugged her arms around her middle, restlessness working slowly up through the muscles in her legs. She looked ready to bolt. “Everything is riding on this, Lexa, and we’re just… stuck here.”

“Try to focus on something else.”

“What exactly am I supposed to focus on?” Clarke asked, throwing her hands up in a rather melodramatic outpouring of frustration. “There’s nothing else to do.”

“You could try sleeping.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched with the barest hint of a smile. Shaking her head, she said to herself, “I honestly don’t know what I expected.”

An answering smile tugged at Lexa’s lips.

_I suppose I could take pity on her_ , she mused, pushing back the thick fur pelt that lay across her lap, _just this once._ She rose from the bed and crossed the short distance between herself and the Skaikru’s reluctant leader, settling a hand at the small of her back. When her touch was not rejected, she began to rub up and down, applying a little more pressure as Clarke gave an appreciative hum. With her eyes closed and her head tilted back just so, it was the most relaxed Lexa had seen her all week.  

“Come to bed, Clarke,” Lexa said softly, not realizing the implication of her words until blue eyes flew wide open. To cover her mistake, she added, “You will feel better when you’ve rested.”

As silence dragged between them, Lexa let her hand fall away. She took a step back and straightened her posture, her face taking on a well-practiced neutral expression. _I should have just let her be._ Things had been… _delicate_ between them, ever since the kiss that they had shared. Now it seemed that she had unintentionally crossed a line.

Yet Clarke continued to watch her with those eyes, and the distance Lexa had tried to create somehow vanished again. She swallowed, doing her very best not to let her gaze drop to far-too-tempting lips. Her heart began to drum wildly in her chest, then, as it became obvious that she could not say the same for Clarke.

“Clarke, I didn’t mean to…”

“Shut up.”

Lexa blinked. She took another step back, but Clarke merely advanced with her, bit by bit, until she felt the backs of her legs hit the edge of the bed. Mind reeling, she could do nothing but let the hand curling at the back of her neck pull her down, her mouth opening instinctively into Clarke’s kiss.  

_Oh._ Oh yes.

Lexa’s hands came up to grasp Clarke’s hips, feeling as if she might topple over without something to hold on to. As the first kiss ended, she turned her head and sought for another, relishing the sensations accompanied by the new angle. Lexa almost groaned at the swipe of Clarke’s tongue along her bottom lip, and when she opened her mouth to meet it with her own, she swore that every second Clarke had kept her awake was _absolutely_ worth it.

Moments later, however, as Clarke’s hand slid away from her neck and down to the front of her overcoat, it occurred to Lexa that perhaps this was moving _too_ fast – despite how much she yearned for it to continue.

“Wait,” Lexa breathed, catching hold of her wrists to halt any further progress. Looking into eyes that reflected a mixture of confusion and arousal back at her, she continued, “I thought you weren’t ready?”

“I’ve had time to think about it,” Clarke answered, glancing briefly at Lexa’s lips again. “There’s never going to be a perfect time, but I think I want to try anyway.”

“You’re _sure_?”

Clarke nodded. “I’m sure.”

It was all she needed to hear.

Lexa eagerly dipped her head, meeting willing lips with a soaring heart. Their kiss was softer this time, sweeter than the ones before it. Lexa melted into it, her fingers slowly falling away from Clarke’s wrists. The snap of buckles coming apart was loud in a room filled only with the sound of crackling fires and the rasp of their mouths, meeting in a series of kisses that still felt almost too good to be true.

To her horror, a little whimper escaped her lips as Clarke’s left hers, but her reward for this show of weakness was a husky laugh and a hot kiss pressed to the underside of her jaw. Clarke’s mouth and tongue seared a trail down the column of her throat, before stopping to suck at the juncture between Lexa’s neck and collarbone.

Her coat fell to the ground with a muffled thump. The air of the tent felt cool against the heat of her exposed skin, and it caused her to shiver. Or maybe, well, maybe that was because of _Clarke_ , whose hands had begun to wander. They were everywhere: on her arms, on her chest, and finally, at the hem of her shirt.

Clarke met her eyes, looking for permission to take the next step. This was another line that they both knew, once it was crossed, would change _everything_ between them.

Without hesitation, Lexa gave a little nod and wordlessly raised her arms.

Her shirt now discarded, and impatient for another kiss, Lexa brought a hand up to Clarke’s face, cradling it as their mouths came together with renewed urgency. For a long moment, they were lost in the pleasure of simply kissing – in the push and pull of their mouths together, in the hint of a tongue here or there – until the desire to feel _more_ began to take over.

Their clothes were removed in a tangle of hurried, inelegant movements, unwilling as they were to part from each other for very long. When they came back together, skin-to-skin at last, a moan tore itself from Lexa’s throat of its own volition.

“Why aren’t we in bed?” Clarke asked between kisses, the timbre of her voice deeper than Lexa had ever heard it, stoking the raging fire that was growing low in her belly.

She was much too far gone for an insightful answer. Instead, all she managed was a simple, “I don’t know.”

With a devious smile, Clarke placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle but insistent shove. Lexa did not resist. Sitting on the bed, she got her first real chance to _see_ Clarke, and her eyes drank in every last inch of exposed skin. How was it that in this callous world, with so much pain and destruction, there could be something – _someone_ – so very wonderful?

“See something you like?” Clarke asked, with a smirk on her lips and a quirked eyebrow.

Lexa nodded slowly, overcome by awe. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.”

As Clarke climbed onto the bed and settled in her lap, arms slipping around her neck, she teased, “I’m sure you say that to all the girls.”

Biting her lip, Lexa glanced away.

“I haven’t – ” she began haltingly, closing her eyes and swallowing hard against the irrational panic that rose in her chest at the reminder of just how long it had been – of _why_ that was so. “There hasn’t been anyone, since…”

“Hey,” Clarke soothed, running a hand between her shoulder blades and looking at her with concern. “It’s okay. We can stop now if you want – we can just sleep.”

Though she was almost certain that it would save them both a lot of hurt in the end, stopping now – after so much had already begun – would require strength that she just did not have.

Lexa shook her head. “No. I want you, Clarke.”

“Good,” Clarke replied, easing the last of Lexa’s worries with a kiss. Her smile was wide and radiant, and Lexa couldn’t help but grin along with her as she added, “The feeling is mutual.”

With the fading of uncertainty came the sudden and intense awareness of everywhere that Clarke’s body was touching her own. It was delightful in ways that she could only have imagined, but still she had other ideas. Her hands, always so strong and sure in battle, were now put to a much better use as they grasped the underside of Clarke’s thighs. She stood with the girl who fell from the sky held firmly in her arms, just long enough to turn and lay her down on the fur-lined bed, splayed out on her back and gaping at Lexa in surprise.

Clarke’s arms unfurled from her neck, hands coming instead to either side of her face and urging her down into a kiss so hungry that Lexa could barely breathe. _She liked that_ , Lexa noted to herself with a healthy hint of smugness. Enduring harsh physical training her whole life to maintain her status as Commander had its moments, after all.

Wanting to feel more, Lexa lowered herself fully to Clarke. Her skin buzzed with electric pleasure everywhere that it connected with Clarke’s – her chest, her stomach, and especially where her pelvis settled between legs that wrapped tightly around her waist. Lexa’s tongue slid against Clarke’s to the tempo of her hips, rolling down to meet the apex of her thighs, giving just enough friction to drive them both wild. Clarke clawed at her back and bucked against her, moaning when Lexa broke from her mouth to suck greedily at her neck. She let her teeth graze Clarke’s skin, delighting in the way a hand soon grasped in her hair, urging her to move lower.

Lexa nipped and licked her way down to Clarke’s chest, hands coming up to cradle her breasts even as her mouth closed around a nipple. She sucked diligently, kneading Clarke’s other breast as she did. The noises that began to rise from the sky girl’s throat – frantic whimpers and hoarse groans – as Lexa worshipped her chest, stirred desire in her for something else. It seemed that Clarke must have been thinking it too – if the hand now pushing on her shoulders, urging her to continue her descent, were any indication.

Clarke was impossibly soft to the touch, Lexa thought, as she smoothed a hand down between the valley of her breasts, lightly scratching with blunt nails. She had a feeling that she could – _would_ , with any luck – spend many hours learning her every dip and curve, but now was not the time for slow. They had waited long enough.

She kissed a path down Clarke’s belly, pausing to slip her tongue into her navel. Clarke’s squirming intensified as Lexa lingered again to lick along her hipbone, giving it a bite that elicited a sharp yelp from the younger woman. When she reached the tops of trembling thighs, Lexa painted them with kisses, sucking and licking along the inner stretch of them toward her ultimate destination.

Hovering just above where Clarke wanted her most, Lexa blew softly on overheated skin. Again, a yell ripped itself from Clarke’s throat, and with a smirk, Lexa thought that _this_ was infinitely better than a week’s worth of incessant talk about war.

“ _Lexa_ ,” Clarke all but growled, clenching fingers in her hair roughly and tugging.

It was a warning more than it was a plea, and yet it shot liquid desire between Lexa’s own thighs. She clenched them together, determined that nothing would keep her from this now. She could wait, but _this_ could not. Not anymore. She took hold of Clarke’s thighs and eased them up to her shoulders, settling in to have full access to her. Hearing Clarke’s whine of anticipation was all the encouragement she needed to begin.

The first swipe of her tongue had Clarke absolutely keening, her hips rising off the bed in a desperate gambit for _more_. So Lexa indulged her, licking the length of her in one long stroke, before sucking avidly at her clit. With legs squeezing around her ears and hands grasping hard at her hair, Lexa built Clarke up with her mouth and tongue, working closer toward climax with every lick and suckling kiss.

Clarke’s gasps and little cries of pleasure filled the tent with such life as it had never before been privy to – its purpose was always for war, not making love. For one fleeting moment, however, as Clarke barrelled toward the edge of bliss, Lexa could shed the burdens of _Heda_ and lose herself in the glorious feeling of the woman she loved coming to orgasm on her tongue. Lexa reached up to grasp her hand, moaning into sensitive flesh as Clarke’s fingers curled around her own and held on to her as if for dear life. Yes. This was what the tent should be for – love, pleasure, and genuine human connection. Not war. Maybe one day it would become their true reality, and not just a stolen moment so easily swept away by perpetual violence and death.

When Clarke was finally spent, her fingers loosening their grip, Lexa gently extricated herself from between her thighs and climbed back up her body, pressing sporadic kisses here and there as she went. She settled against her side, nuzzling her face into Clarke’s temple and languishing in the joy of unsteady arms holding her close. This was everything she ever wanted and never believed she could have, and all it took was a girl falling from the sky to make it possible. All it took was such seemingly simple words: _Don’t we deserve better than that?_

Lexa shook her head and laughed, and Clarke turned to regard her with heavy-lidded cobalt eyes.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, sounding raspy and satisfied.

“Nothing,” Lexa replied, giving her a tender kiss. Then, as an afterthought, she added, “Maybe we do, Clarke.”

Her strength returning, Clarke rolled Lexa onto her back and straddled her hips. She looked down at her with suddenly serious eyes, and Lexa reached for both of her hands, giving them a loving squeeze.

_Maybe we do._

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for some friends of mine on Tumblr. (I owed it to them.) It was originally going to be a crack!fic of Clarke dreaming about Lexa in ep 3.01, but I'm terrible at writing pure PWP fics. Had to give it some kind of meaning, so I went for a 2.14 canon divergence instead. Hope you guys liked it!


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